


Carriers

by orphan_account



Category: Homestuck, MS Paint Adventures
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-18
Updated: 2010-08-18
Packaged: 2017-10-11 03:39:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/107930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A small piece of prose, fleshing out these diligent Imperial Drones. No pairings or anything, just some speculation on the setting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Carriers

The "travelling salesman problem" is an old bane of computer programmers, only somewhat rectified by the prodigious computing power available today. Finding the shortest possible route through a set of known points proves to be no small piece of work, for even for 15 locations, the amount of possible routes to be tested and compared amounts to more than forty billion.

Proving that the flabby flesh-brains can sometimes out-calculate even the mighty silicon thinkers, the Imperial Drones of the Alternian Empire seem to have an instinctive talent for quickly assessing the newest neighborhood they will face on tonight's walkabout and determining the path which will not only provide an effective and time-saving solution, but also make sure that as many of the inhabitants as possible will remain ignorant of the drone's presence until he will arrive at their doors. This has an educational function: knowing that the unhesitating brute can pop up unannounced any minute teaches young trolls the value of diligence and non-procrastination in fulfilling the reproductive obligations. If some curious person would ask the drone how can he perform such advanced calculations that put to test modern computers, the drone wouldn't really understand or care, then would probably kill the asker for wasting the precious time of a government worker. The curriculum of knowledge taught to the imperial drones, and the sole interests they are expected to have, places little emphasis on mathematics.

An inquisitive observer might notice that the two Filial Pails tugged around by the drone, while decorative, have little in the way of functionality – an odd fact that collides with the known troll custom of eschewing aesthetics for sake of practicality. More to the point, the pails are open at the top and not even protected by lids, and thus there is much risk of spilling the precious gathered genetic material. Must the future of the species' new generation hinge on the roughness of terrain and the dexterity of the carrier, must the newest batch delivered to Mother Grub be diminished by any unnoticed underfoot rock or a momentary loss of balance?

The answer lies in the troll race's utilitarian philosophy. In this worldview, when setting forth the Empire rules and regulations, the guiding principle shall be the greatest satisfaction of the greatest number of the most important people. Now, the imperial drones, even though the thought of their visit might cloud the minds and darken the happy thoughts of a hundred thousand troll young on the planet surface, have in fact a very low position on the arcane ladder of troll hierarchy. The usual calculations regarding one's blood color do not apply to the drones, who are genetically engineered and educated separately since their birth to serve as nothing more than efficient servants, maintaining law and order, or a satisfying semblance thereof, around the empire and on Alternia's surface. As they are technically tools rather than citizens, they do not really have much in the way of civil rights.

Of course, should a clumsy drone spill some or all of his genetic crop, this will be a punishable offense. But in the case of misdeeds perpetrated by such low-class individuals, the Alternian Empire's courts do not bother with the typical rigorous trial, instead adopting the time-saving policy: "the guy who was the closest to the crime scene is the only guilty one." The drone will be demoted to lowly menial work (and mutilated appropriately) or simply culled, but none of the higher-ranking citizens will be in risk from the law, even the decision-makers who allow the pails to stay the way the are. Thus the only ones who would benefit from changing the design of the vessels are the imperial drones themselves, and nobody really cares about them, nor are they taught to care for their rights.

Yes, someone with the proper authority could fill out the proper request form and send it to the appropriate decision-maker in hopes of replacing the pails with, say, canisters. But it is no mystery that while such forms exist, they are nothing more but a trap for weeding out the naïve. Sending a request form is equivalent to admitting that one is not entirely satisfied with the way the Empire is run, which is, in turn, tantamount to treason.

...And yet, even though the above information could be gleamed from a cursory read through the history and politics books available in every library on Alternia (if you can find one, that is), the young trolls still refuse to drop the harmful prejudices and view the imperial drones as terrifying and despicable death-bringers rather than tired officials who face risk at every step and thus really can be excused for having a twitchy trigger-finger, twitchier than the official policy allows. Five seconds really isn't that little of a time to fill the pails, unless you've been an idiot and hid your genetic material samples somewhere deep in a forgotten cupboard drawer. What were you thinking, if anything at all? It's not like you'll be able to reach it anyway because turning away from an official is tantamount to an escape attempt, and thus warrants execution. And frankly, anyone with such an appalling lack of foresight deserves to die forever.


End file.
